FicWad

A week had seemed to roll by in a sweet bitter haze of alcohol and stinging tears. Stacy had barely moved from her curled up child like position and she stayed sobbing into her knees under the confinements of her duvet. She leaned and reached one had over to the empty vodka bottle, groaning as she tipped the barely droplet like contents into her mouth. The taste of pure drug intake never felt as cold as the icy grip slithered down her throat and a headache thumped wildly against her temples. She kept her eyes closed from the vicious pull the morning sun had on her and shoved her face deeper into the contours of her duvet. Her stomach twisted in manners she had never dreamed as if crying wildly against her over consumption of liquors around the world. She knew that she couldn't contain the contents of her insides for too long and soon she was running bare foot across her bedroom to her en suite, spilling bile and half digested food into the marble of the basin. The buds on her tongue had gotten used to the awful stab the vomit had caused and merely rolled their eyes at the pattern Stacy had fallen into.

"I just don't think of you that way."

Stacy dragged her weary body from the carpet and leaned over her sink, casually spitting into the sink and running the cold tap to wash it down the drain. Entranced somewhat by the patterns the rushing water caused she imagined what it would be like if her heart simply disappeared too, further down into the chasms of the earth. All the pieces that Patrick seemed to hold shattered in her hand just gone in a single swirl of freezing water. She tipped her head up to the mirror and found herself staring at not her reflection but a ghost like shell of who she was. Stunned she dragged her finger tips down the flesh of her cheek to reveal her dyed bags that appeared darker than the foul stenches of the night. Her chin hung in double form as her complexion stayed paler than ever. Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears that had violent ravaged them and her hair laid lank and greasy on the fat of her cheeks. She stepped away and began to peel of her baggy clothes from her body. Standing in just her underwear, she began to grab at rolls of fat that hung brutally from her body. She pinched and prodded each of her curves and became increasingly upset with herself. Even though she was alone, and even though she was afraid, she grew increasingly self aware at the state she was in, she pulled up the bundle of clothes and threw them on. She glanced again at herself within the picture that the telling glass was showing. Stacy felt disgusted, loathing inch of inch of her. No wonder he broke my heart.

It was at that moment that Stacy caught a slice of hope within her eyes. It sparked with a lost glimpse of her bright former part. The one that she had silence with bottle after bottle of alcohol. It stared blankly at her as if too ask what she was doing and for once in the 7 days of instant heartache she listened. It was as though she was throwing away each bit of her one by one. Patrick had sent her down this instant spiral into neglect with a simple reaction to a simple kiss. She had thrown all reason and her former self away and reached for the forever friends of cheap whiskey and cheaper emotions. She was tearing herself down with no thought, just anguish. Thing are going to change.

Stacy, against the voices in her mind, smiled and turned on the bristling shower and stripped. She never relished the sweat cool water so much as when she began to feel the drips fall on her naked skin, washing away the dirt and the self pity. She hurried instead of staying in the soothing pit of her heart and dried herself, throwing on some comforting clothes.

Stacy grabbed the keys and money from the side and before she knew it she was heading straight into the middle of town. The wind creeping throughout the creases of the window whispered chants in her, independent feel good songs that the weather seemed to shine on to her with every ray that came from behind the clouds. She turned the roads and curved along the paths, soon finding herself within the hustle and bustle of shopping life. Usually she would cringe from the high topped sexy girls that strutted past her with an air of superiority and a credit card inherited unwillingly from father. Stacy mocked them all with a head shake that helped shake of the shudders of insecurity and low self esteem.

She found a parking lot and wasted no time in finding her hands browsing through tops. The groaned and huffed at each extra large one she would usually purchase and found herself staring at a beautiful dress. A slimming black one with thin straps and the skirt puffed out only slightly, enough to make an hour glass figure stand out. A black rose at comfortably just at the end of the strap before the bosom began. She gasped in awe at it. She went to the countered with two sizes smaller, feeling her cheeks grow a rose red with the patronizing look from the size four girl serving her. Stacy smiled with a sickly series of teeth and beamed her thank you loud.

Stacy had journeyed home and found her heart beating rapidly with a new tune, one she had forgotten so long ago; freedom. She curled around the pathway home and as soon as she entered her impeccably built home she hung the dress proudly on the rim of her bedroom door. Her incentive, her goal. She placed warming music around the house and soon she was raiding the kitchen, throwing out every excess of junk food she had. The phone began to ring, shrill and fast but as she had been doing she ignored it.

Hey Stacy it's Patrick, Stacy froze in her tracks, walking over to her answering machine, It's been a week now and I'm kinda worried. I thought we could talk about this, as friends. Please call.

Stacy deleted the message.